Or was it? Looking into those eyes, it seemed like a very good idea. ‘Well, I’m not a whore…’ I said, leaving the sentence dangling. He hurrie... to agree. ‘No, no! I’m sure you’re not,’ he said. He hesitated a moment, then said, ‘Perhaps we ought to discuss this inside.’ His apartment was luxuriously decorated, as I had assumed it would be. The only thing that surprised me was the large painting of a young girl that hung over the sofa. She was nude, and very provocatively posed. He noticed me. I can see that you know because you describe it so well. That was it." What's it, Christine? You must be precise. What happened? You mentioned their breasts. They beat their breasts?" Yes, monsieur. There too." And their stomachs?"She turned away but I could feel the heaving of her shoulders and I could hear the regular rasp of her weeping. "As you say ... they beat them ... their tits, backs, everywhere, and I was next. They told me to come forward and I stood there in front of them, facing. More

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